


Paradise Lost: A Collection of Vignettes

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, No Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-26
Updated: 2003-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-27 12:09:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12080781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: After the events of 220, Brian reflects on the relationship he had with Justin.





	Paradise Lost: A Collection of Vignettes

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Do you love me?   
Or am I just another trip in this strange relationship?  
You push and pull me again  
I’m about to loose my mind   
Is this just a waste of time?   
Keep actin’ like you own me  
I keep runnin’ watch me walkin’ out that door  
I hear you behind me.

 

Gimme that strange relationship   
Never felt pleasure and pain like this  
Something so right but it feels so terribly wrong  
I keep holding on  
Gimme that strange relationship one of us has gotta let go of this  
I keep pushing and you keep holding on  
I’m already gone.  
~Darren Hayes, "Strange Relationship"

 

Fuck. Why do I do these things? Why? Whenever it seems that things could be going well, that things might finally work out, I have to go and fuck it up. God, that look on his face. The hurt in his eyes when he saw me. Why the hell didn’t I go after him? Tell him I was sorry? I let him go. Let him walk off with the fiddle player. I wanted him to. I pushed him off that fuckin’ cliff along with Mikey. No one can get close to Brian Kinney. No fuckin’ way. It’s not as if he can’t be replaced. Hell, I’ve already gone and done it. Took that trick home from the Rage party and fucked him in our . . . my bed. Kicked him out later that night. Nothing’s changed. Things have become regulated again. One twink stayed longer than he should have. But that’s over now. We’re over. 

 

 

"I warned you Justin," Brian said in a deep voice. "Did I not warn you?"

"I’m sorry," the younger one apologized. "I couldn’t help it."

Brian came forward slowly and rested his hands on the counter. The large object stood between like a barrier.

"That doesn’t fix this now does it?"

Unable to do anything else, Justin slowly shrugged his shoulders. Brian’s stare intensified and without warning he rushed to his right only to have the teenager immediately dash to his right as well. Feeling an evil grin appear on his face, Brian studied Justin’s slight movements. Quickly, Brian feigned right and when Justin again moved to his right, Brian made an abrupt change in direction and rushed at him. 

"Shit!" Justin scared as he tried to flee but Brian’s longer fingers aided him well and he soon had a loose grip on the back of the boy’s shirt. As Justin attempted to twist his way to freedom Brian’s grip only became tighter. By this point Justin was yelling in mock protest and Brian’s smile had completely taken over his face. As Brian’s free arm wrapped around Justin’s waist the boy felt himself tackled to the floor. Soon, Brian’s fingers prowled under his shirt and sharply and quickly moved over sensitive flesh. 

"No Brian, no!" Justin managed between gasping breaths and giggles. "Stop!"

Brian continued his playful torture amid his own laughter and in order to stop his partner’s flailing legs, he repositioned himself so that he was straddling his lap. Every time Justin would try and remove Brian’s hands, the more skilled man would block him.

"Please," Justin squealed. "Stop it! I’m gonna die!"

The young man’s frantic pleas only humored Brian more.

"I won’t do it again!"

"Won’t do what again?" Brian questioned as he gave Justin’s right side a good tickling. 

Undulating under him, the smaller man tried to appease his tormentor. As he gave one more attempt to dislodge the larger man on top of him, Brian grabbed his wrists and pinned them at his sides.

"Won’t do what again?" he repeated moving his mouth very close to his captive’s.

"I won’t ever, ever, ever, EVER," Justin began. "Eat your chicken again."

Brian smiled as Justin did and leaned in closer. When Justin reached up to connect their lips Brian allowed them one breath of a kiss, the briefest tease of connection, and then pulled away.

"I swear," Justin stressed.

Satisfied, Brian leaned down once more and kissed him gently on the lips.

 

 

Brian quickly aborted his attempt at making himself more comfortable when the sharp cry of protest reached his ears.

"Don’t move!"

Brian sighed very loudly.

"Christ, Justin!" he complained. "I’m starving."

"Yeah like I will be one day if you don’t let me work."

"I’ll support you for the rest of your life, which may be ending sooner than expected if you don’t let me up."

Justin looked above his sketchbook and into Brian’s annoyed eyes.

"Please Brian?" Justin asked in a child’s voice.

Instantly Brian hated him. Justin knew that the older man was unable to deny him anything when he asked in that tone of voice. 

"All right," Brian mumbled. "Just hurry up okay?"

Flashing him a quick smile, Justin returned to his charcoal and paper. Less than a year had passed since they first met and already Justin could make him do things no other could. And it wasn’t only because he’d most likely get sex as a reward. As Brian watched the artist work, he was amazed at how erotic it was. The complete intensity in Justin’s eyes that showed no other emotion but passion as he would stare at the paper, looking up from time to time to scan Brian’s body before returned back to work. 

This time Justin had Brian lying in the leather chaise much like a large cat with his limbs very slack and his body relaxed. Black jeans and a loose, long-sleeved black shirt that buttoned in the front, only the top three were undone to reveal the strong flesh of Brian’s chest. Soon, the utterly devoted gaze of his lover was indeed too much and it began to physically show. Due to the fact that Justin seemed to be focusing on the face and upper body, it was a while before he noticed but when he did, an unmistakable twinkle came into his eyes. 

"Honestly," he said simply with a smile.

Knowing that there was no reason to respond, Brian just looked him in the eyes.

"You are hungry aren’t you?" 

The innocent way in which the boy commented was the last Brian could stand. Before Justin had time to protest Brian was across the room and clasping Justin’s hands, pulled him up and away from his work and kissed him roughly on the mouth. For the shortest moment Justin resisted but soon allowed himself to become lost in Brian’s embrace. As the older man shed his lover of his shirt, Justin carefully walked backwards as Brian pushed him up the stairs to the bed. Their mouths never separated as they fell back onto the soft mattress and pillows. The feeling of his smaller and very willing partner under him added to Brian’s desperate need to remove his jeans, which were becoming quite uncomfortable. Sensing this, Justin moved his hand, dusted with charcoal, to his waist and began working on the buttons.

"I’m never gonna get that drawing done," Justin said between breaths. 

Indeed, it had been the second attempt Justin had made at finishing that drawing which and been inspired by the two of them in that same chair with a pint of vanilla ice cream only a few weeks before.

"Please," Brian argued as he finally freed himself of the confining denim. "You brought this on yourself." 

 

 

"Suprachiasmatic nuclei."

"Um . . . that enables your 25-hour body to function in a 24-hour day."

A little nod of the head was the only response Justin received as Brian moved on to the next notecard. Justin was amazed that he had been helping him for so long and for the most part without interruption. 

"Hypothalamus." 

For a moment, Justin was silent with his pondering.

"It regulates hunger, thirst and . . . um . . ."

Raising an eyebrow, Brian completed the definition. 

"Sex drives."

"Yeah, yeah," Justin said snapping his fingers as he remembered. "Okay . . . go on."

Brian sighed and threw the cards down on the table between them.

"Hey" Justin questioned. "I thought you were gonna help me."

"I will once your hypothalamus wakes up," Brian answered as he walked away. 

Justin rolled his eyes and opened his psychology book. He had a big test the next day and all the brain parts and their functions were giving him a hard time. He couldn’t keep all the longwinded words straight. Midway through his review of the different parts of the motor cortex, he felt Brian’s hands slide down his arms and lips at his ear. 

"This is really interesting," Justin said ignoring Brian’s attentions. "Did you know that it’s the left side of the brain that controls the motor skills of the right side of the body?"

"Hmm," Brian mumbled into the skin of his neck. "Fascinating." 

"So wouldn’t that mean that - "

Justin was unable to finish his sentence as Brian covered his mouth with is own and began to rub his chest with his hands, soon moving under the shirt to feel the soft skin underneath.

"Come on," he whispered. "I think your hippocampus needs stimulation."

"Hmm, hypothalamus," Justin corrected against his lips.

"Whatever," Brian nearly growled as he pulled Justin towards him.

 

 

"Don’t love me."

"It’s my secret."

"Don’t love me!"

"I makes me happy. And I have a signal. When I rub my left eyebrow at you like this. . . It means I love you. Bet you didn’t know that."

"Don’t love me."

"I can’t help it."

"I don’t want anybody to love me."

"Too bad."

"I can’t love anybody back."

"Who’s asking you too!"

"Queers aren’t meant to love; they don’t want us to!"

 

Brian was unable to stifle a snort at the sheer familiarity of the lines.

"Do you find this amusing?" Justin questioned casting a quick glance to the older man to his left. 

In response, Brain shot him an incredulous look. 

"What? You don’t?"

Justin rolled his eyes.

"It’s sad damn it," he answered.

Brian smiled and turned back to the screen. They’d rented a movie called "Bent". A story about homosexuals during the holocaust. Not more than 15 minutes after the movie started, Brian had caught the first signs of tears in the boy’s eyes. However, Brian did not ridicule him like he normally would have. The scene that had effected him had depicted a man beating his lover to death in order to escape his own violent demise. Brian was unable to resist however as Justin raised his hand to his eyes once again and he playfully slapped his hand away.

"Pathetic."

"Heartless."

"Drama Queen."

"Antichrist."

"Twat."

"Breeder."

Brian’s eyes widened and he snatched the popcorn bowl from were it resided between the both of them. Justin emitted a slight whimper and pouted as he looked at Brian with puppy dog eyes. Brian gave him a small smile and placed the bowl back between them. Flashing him a bright smile, Justin then returned his gaze to the screen. They finished the rest of the film in silence, aside from the occasional sniff from Justin who each time blamed his allergies. Near the end, with the popcorn gone, Justin looked over to Brian with the intention of asking him for more but what he found was the taller man resting his head against the back of the couch deep in sleep. Justin was unable to repress a smile at the sight. Lately, Brian had been putting in a lot of extra hours at work on a new assignment. Justin had to practically beg him to rent them a movie for tonight. Yet despite all his extra work, this was the first time that it actually showed.

Wanting him to get all the rest he could Justin shut off the film, he was tired of feeling depressed anyway. Within him however, he was facing a great dilemma. A sleeping Brian lay not three feet from him, looking sinfully beautiful and inviting. However, if he got up to sketch him, he would risk waking Brian up. He quickly learned that Brian had a sixth since and had become quite adept at detecting when he was the subject of the boy’s artistic creativity. If he tried to snuggle up to him, the chances of waking him would be even greater. Sighing, Justin walked back into the bedroom and retrieved a thick white blanket. As he covered his lover’s relaxed body, it struck him that this had indeed been night of nostalgia. Clearly, he remembered Brian doing the same to him the night that he told his father that he was never coming home again. 

Lightly running a hand through his soft hair, Justin kissed his temple and went to the computer to work on his English assignment.

 

 

Checking the clock for the thousandth time, Justin recommenced his pacing.

2:50 A.M.

"Fuck," he cursed. "Come on Brian."

2:51 A.M.

Justin stopped and nervously tapped his bare feet on the wood floor. He could be with him right now. That Tommy-Tony-Timmy could have been the one. He could have strangled that boy and left him in the dumpster to rot. The guy was big, well bigger than he was. He could give Brian a good fight. But Brian could fight back. Still he was overcome with a sick feeling in his stomach. 

2:52 A.M. 

The sound of the elevator rising was like angels welcoming him into heaven. Quickly, he turned and ran up the stairs and into the bedroom, tearing off his shirt and pants as he did. Just has he’d hurled himself into the bed and under the covers, the sound of the lock being turned greeted his ears and soon after the heavy door slid open. Even with his eyes closed, Justin could detect exactly what Brian was doing. He tried to concentrate on feigning sleep and ignoring the sound of the other man walking into the bathroom to shower.

Justin opened his eyes when he was sure Brian was standing under the running water, cleansing himself of his newest conquest. He was unsure of whether or not to tell Brian how their rules were beginning to make him feel. Of the horrible way his stomach churned when it was over and he was left with his so-called partner. However, he also knew that expressing those feelings would not do any good. He’d done something no one else could. He had Brian Kinney on a leash. A long leash, but a leash nonetheless. As the sound of the falling water ceased, Justin closed his eyes again and after a few minutes, felt Brian slip into bed beside him. Justin was lying in the fetal position with his back to him and felt his heart rate increase when Brian scooted closer to him. 

"I know you’re awake," Brian whispered as he gently touched Justin’s back. "I told you I’d be all right. I wouldn’t have gone if I couldn’t have handled it."

As much as Justin wanted to turn around and respond, something inside him held him back.

Brian’s body was damp and cool and felt wonderful against Justin’s which was heated with anxiety. Nothing else was said as Brian kissed his shoulder and laid back into the sheets. Justin never turned over and slept the entire night with his back to him. 

 

 

"Gross, I look like my dad."

Brian smiled stole a quick glance at Justin was standing before the many mirrors in the store. 

"I hope not," Brian called from where he stood trying to find a matching tie. "We might have to stop fucking if you do."

Upon finding one Brian turned back around and walked over to him.

"Besides, you need an actual suit for interviews and things."

" ‘And things’?" Justin questioned sarcastically. "You’re just pulling this out of your ass aren’t you?" 

Holding a tie out before his young lover he waited for him to take it which he did after a moment. 

"You need it," Brian insisted. "You can’t spend the rest of your life in jeans and T-shirts."

Justin stuck his tongue out at him and swung the tie around his neck. Brian slowly scanned down his body and inspected the dark blue suit closely. The color of the jacket was beautiful against he black shirt and the two colors together highlighted Justin’s vibrant blue eyes. 

"Come on," Brian persisted. "I wanna see how it all looks together."

Brian stepped in front of him and reached for the tie that gently rested against his chest. Justin stood still and studied Brian’s eyes as his fingers worked on the knot. Something in that keen pressure was running up and down Justin’s body in an euphoric wave. The intensity in Brian’s eyes as he worked was turning Justin on more than he thought was possible. Sensing this, Brian finished the knot and gave it a rough tug, pulling Justin’s slightly off balance. Making a slight noise of surprise, Justin looked up at him as Brian pulled on the tie, drawing him in for a kiss. 

At first, Justin was too surprised to respond. There were people everywhere. Then again, when had that ever stopped Brian from doing anything? Or himself for that matter. Justin responded and deepened the kiss before he pulled away. Almost immediately after they parted the annoying sound of an elderly woman clearing her throat in protest accosted their ears. Looking at them with disgust and disbelief, the woman frowned at the two men and slightly shook her head. Before she had time to walk away however, Justin grabbed Brian’s arm, spun him around and kissed him roughly on the mouth, forcing his tongue between his lips. Feeling Brian slightly grin as he met Justin’s tongue with his own, Justin ran his hands through his soft brown strands as Brian’s traveled down the side of his body and came to rest snugly on his ass.

Even though they did it for show, it took everything Brian had not to drag him to the floor and fuck him right then and there. Satisfied that the woman had lost the last few years of her life, they pulled away but not before Brian sneaked one more kiss on Justin’s neck. Indeed when they looked back at her, the woman was bright red and seemingly in shock. Brian slung his arm around Justin’s shoulders and winked at her as she walked away with hurried, heavy steps. Justin’s turned back to Brian and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"I think this one does the trick," Justin said as he straightened his jacket.

 

 

Hearing the loud sigh emit from Brian as he dropped his briefcase to the floor with a heavy thud, Justin looked up from his book and turned his attentions to him. 

"Everything okay?"

Brian flashed him a death stare and almost ripped his tie off his neck, flinging it to the floor as he walked up the steps into the bedroom. Slowly, Justin closed the book and followed. Brian was standing in front of the closet working on the buttons of his shirt as his eyes stared out into nothing. Using extreme caution, Justin approached him from behind and wrapped his arms around his waist. When he wasn’t thrown off, he leaned his cheek against Brian’s back.

"I’m sorry."

"What for?" Brian roughly asked.

"That you had a bad day."

"Did you plant the fucking virus that fucked all my files?"

Justin closed his eyes and offered a slight noise of sympathy as he kissed Brian’s shoulder.

"Then don’t be sorry," Brian added.

Deciding to take a different approach, Justin pulled back and began to rub the tight muscles of his shoulders. Almost immediately, he felt Brian lean back into his attentions and he smiled. There was an incredibly powerful feeling that came with the knowledge that only he could get away with this right now. Only he could soothe him. Leaning in on his tiptoes, Justin whispered in Brian’s ear.

"Feel good?"

A mumbled respond was all he got.

"If you lie down on the bed I can do it better."

Needing nothing further, Brian turned and hurled himself down on the bed. Holding back a laugh, Justin carefully straddled his back and reached under to remove his shirt that he had already unbuttoned. Trying his hardest not to get distracted by the sheer beauty Brian’s smooth back, Justin began to knead his shoulders and upper back. After a few moments, Justin would have thought Brian was dying due to the noises he was making. By the time he reached his middle and lower back, Brian was putty in his hands. It was amazing how much the man responded to his touch as he worked the tension out of his muscles. Justin didn’t stop until his hands were cramped almost to the point of pain. When he did, he was meet with a disappointed but satisfied sigh. Leaning down, Justin kissed the nape of his neck.

"Thank you," Brian said softly. 

"Any time."

 

 

"I knew giving you all that alcohol was a mistake."

Justin tried to respond but tripped over a beer can in the street and gripped Brian’s arm tighter. 

"Please, I didn’t have any more than you did," the intoxicated man managed to protest.

"Yeah well that’s at least one . . . the only benefit of being older," Brian said as he secured his grip around Justin’s slender waist and continued to walk to the jeep.

Upon reaching it, Brian opened the passenger side door and all but picked Justin up and placed him in the seat. Closing the door, Brian walked around to the other side and climbed in. As he reached over to fasten Justin’s seat belt he felt the boy’s delicate hands on his. 

"You can’t drive," Justin protested. "You’re too . . . hemophilic."

"Okay," Brian began. "I think you mean ‘inebriated’ and you are in no position to talk. Besides, I am not drunk.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Justin drunkenly continued. "You are SO drunk! You’re so drunk you’d make . . . cheese . . . turn pink."

After a moment of looking at him with a blank expression, Brian spoke.

‘Justin," he asked calmly. "What the hell are you talking about?" 

"Well if you don’t repeat it I’m not gonna understand," he answered.

Pushing a grin aside, Brian squeezed Justin’s seat belt and checked it by giving it a rough tug. 

"You’ve become dyslexic I see," Brian said. "Justin, darling, I think you’re officially plastered."

"Hehehe, you called me ‘darling’," Justin smiled. "You so love me." 

Starting the ignition, Brian put on his own seat belt and drove away from Woody’s and to the loft. All the way back Justin rambled inane things and by the time Brian had him in the elevator he was singing "Wannabe" by the Spice Girls. Because the younger man seemed utterly incapable to master the fine art of walking Brian leaned down and, slipping an arm under his knees, carried him back to the bedroom causing Justin to exclaim a surprised "whoa!". Carefully, Brian dropped his lover on the bed and smiling, kneeled over him and undid his jeans before he slid them down his slim, white legs. As he reached to remove his shirt however, he was startled by Justin’s sudden loud laughter.

"What?" Brian questioned.

Justin smiled as he looked up at him.

"You have pretty eyes," He answered in a much more sober voice.

Brian regarded him with helpless adoration but was taken back when Justin lurched up and kissed his lips. When they parted, Justin grabbed Brian by the front of his shirt and whispered hungrily in his ear.

"Fuck me."

Brian smiled as the younger man placed sloppy kisses on his neck and jaw. He wasn’t sure if he was doing it on purpose or if he couldn’t find his mouth again. Moaning, Brian pushed Justin back into the sheets.

"Hmm," he muttered. "That’s not in your best interest right now."

"Since when do you care?" he asked. "Come on."

As he reached for him, Brian caught his hand and placed it back beside his body. It was tempting; Justin half-naked, drunk and quite helpless beneath him. Regardless, he resisted. 

"No," Brian said firmly. "You wouldn’t even remember it if we did. Besides, you’re gonna be hurting bad enough in the morning."

Justin released a loud, dramatic sigh but ceased his efforts. Allowing Brian to remove his shirt Justin then crawled under the covers and watched as his older lover covered him with the soft comforter. Almost like a father, Brian leaned in and kissed his forehead.

" ‘Night Sunshine."

 

 

Yeah, nothing special. Nothing I can’t find a nightly replacement for. This is how it should be. He’s happy. I’m happy. I hope he’s happy. Hope the fiddler makes him real fuckin’ happy. He deserves it. He does, but I don’t want anyone else to please him. It should be me. For almost two fuckin years it was me. Now I’ve been replaced. Whatever. He chose him. I gave him a choice and he made it. It’s over. We’re over. Christ, why the fuck am I still thinking about him? Shit. That fucking Goddamn kid has made me love him. This is ridiculous. I don't do love. I don't believe in love. I never did. Expect when I was with him. 

 

Do you love me, yeah?  
We break up then back together  
And swore to myself never  
But oh how you do me  
You strip my of my honor  
I don’t ever think I’m gonna  
Break free of these mind games  
All I’m tryin’ to do is modify my plans  
‘Cause I can’t contain you.

 

You keep actin’ like you own me  
Like you control me  
You said you never really wanted me back  
Maybe if that’s a fact may I suggest  
I brand new plan of attack  
And in defense of that you’re hard to crack  
You’re way off track  
I want you back, I want you gone  
Maybe I’m sick of holdin’ on.  
~Darren Hayes, "Strange Relationship"


End file.
